Remember When (Foster Saga 1) - Page 34

“As you can see,” Grandma sadly declared, “Diana has finally reached her limits. There’s the proof.”

Chapter 25

IF YOU’RE REALLY GOING TO dance with me,” Cole joked when they neared the entry to the adjoining ballroom, “I suggest you have something to drink first.” He stopped at a banquet table with an untouched place setting, lifted a bottle of champagne from the cooler in the center of the table, and poured some champagne into an unused glass. “Alcohol acts as an anesthetic,” he told Diana with a grin as he handed her the glass, “and dancing with me could be a painful and dangerous experience.”

Diana took the glass, so relieved that her personal ordeal was over and so grateful for his kindness and ingenuity that she would have danced with him if her feet were bare and he was wearing golf cleats. No longer were women eyeing her with pity or disdain. In fact, she noted with amusement, they weren’t looking at her at all—they were looking at Cole, and Diana couldn’t blame them. With his thick black hair, piercing gray eyes, and tall, athletic physique, Cole Harrison was magnificent.

The same male qualities that had made all the girls fantasize about him long ago were even more pronounced now. There had always been a rugged strength and latent sexuality about him, but now it was enhanced by an aura of cool sophistication and indomitable power.

Walking into the adjoining ballroom, she sipped the champagne, enjoying the looks of confusion on the faces of the same acquaintances who earlier had eyed her with pity or satisfaction.

The orchestra was playing a popular slow song as they neared the dance floor, but when Diana started to put the glass of champagne down on a table, he shook his head. “Finish it.”

“Are you really that worried about stepping on my feet?” she asked, her smile filled with a mixture of gratitude, relief, and laughter.

“Certainly not,” he teased. “I’m worried that you’ll be so tense and stiff that you’ll step on my feet.”

With a laugh, she drained the glass and tucked her hand through his arm, drawing him close in an unconscious gesture that seemed a little possessive to Cole and pleased immensely. He was about to negotiate one of the most important “business deals” of his life with a lovely, unsuspecting woman who needed to trust him enough to accept his bizarre offer.

When he slid his arm around her on the dance floor, Diana gazed up at him, her features soft and warm with gratitude. “Cole?”

He returned her smile, but the gray eyes that regarded her from beneath half-lowered lids seemed preoccupied, thoughtful. “Hmmm?”

“Has anyone ever told you that you are very sweet and very gallant?”

“Certainly not. Generally, I’m described as cold, calculating, and ruthless.”

Diana was aghast at the injustice of that. With her heart filled with gratitude and her head swimming from all the wine and champagne she’d drunk to reinforce her courage, Cole Harrison seemed completely wonderful and omnipotent—a mighty defender who’d charged to her rescue, vanquished her foes, and saved her from humiliation. He was gallantry and daring in a world filled with cowardice and malice. “How could people possibly think such awful things about you?”

“Because they’re completely true,” he stated with calm finality.

Diana’s reply was an irrepressible giggle. “Liar.”

He looked stung. “Now, that is one thing I am not.”

“Oh.” Trying unsuccessfully to bite back a smile, she decided he was joking because he was embarrassed by her praise, and she switched the topic. “Who did you really buy this necklace for?”

Instead of answering, he gazed at her in speculative silence for so long that Diana began to wonder uneasily if he’d had a recipient in mind, or if he’d actually spent $40,000 on a necklace merely to bolster her status tonight. His next words relieved her mind. “The necklace is a wedding gift for my future wife.”

“How wonderful! When are you getting married?”

“Immediately after I propose.”

He sounded so matter-of-fact that Diana couldn’t resist teasing him. “Either you’re very certain she’ll say yes, or else you’re hoping to sway her with this necklace. Which is it?”

“I’d say it’s a little of both. I’m hoping to sway her with this necklace, and I’m fairly certain she’ll say yes, once I explain the wisdom and benefits associated with such an arrangement.”

“You sound as if you’re proposing a business merger,” Diana advised him with a surprised smile.

Cole quickly reviewed the plan he’d conceived in the last half hour and made his final decision. In a deceptively casual tone, he said, “The last time I asked someone to marry me, we were both sixteen. Obviously, I need to practice my technique, Kitten.”

Diana was a little disconcerted to discover that Cole Harrison hadn’t been nearly as decisive and knowledgeable about women as she’d thought he was when she was sixteen and crazy about him. Most of all, she was touched by the name he’d called her. Kitten. The old nickname he’d occasionally used for her seemed poignantly familiar at that moment—a reminder of a time when she chatted with him while he worked in the Haywards’ stable surrounded by the sweet smell of fresh hay and oiled leather, their desultory conversation punctuated by the muted shuffling of horses’ hooves. Her life had been so simple then; her future had seemed so bright and full of exciting possibilities. “Kitten . . .” she whispered softly, her eyes shadowed with the realization that those old promises of a bright future hadn’t worked out at all the way she’d imagined.

Sensing the sudden dipping of her mood, Cole maneuvered her smoothly off the dance floor. “Let’s go somewhere else and work on my proposal technique. Our audience is too big in here.”

“I thought you wanted an audience for us.”

“They’ve seen all they need to see.”

He pronounced that with the arrogance of a royal decree, and with his hand beneath her elbow, he maneuvered her off the dance floor and out of the crowded, noisy room.

Chapter 26

WHERE ARE WE GOING?” DlANA asked, laughing as he led her toward the elevators. It felt better and better to laugh. Tomorrow, reality would crush her again like a boulder, but for tonight, Cole and the wine and the necklace were all combining to provide an unexpected respite from the misery, and she was determined to enjoy it. “How about Lake Tahoe?” Cole suggested as he pressed the elevator button. “We could get married, go for a swim, and be back here in time for brunch tomorrow.”

Diana assumed he was practicing his proposal on her again, and she took pains to hide her amusement at his blunt haste and his unromantic attitude. “Tahoe’s a little too far,” she said breezily. “Besides I’m not dressed for it.”

She glanced down ruefully at her gown, and Cole’s eyes followed her gaze, drifting over the creamy gentle swell of her breasts above the bodice of her gown, then dipping to her narrow waist. “In that case, there’s only one other place that offers the sort of atmosphere and privacy required for what I have in mind.”

“Where is that?”

“My suite,” he said as he ushered her into the crowded elevator and slid a key into the slot beside the top button marked Penthouse.

Diana fired him a glance of real concern, but there were people from the ball in the elevator and she couldn’t possibly argue in front of them. When the last elderly couple got off on the floor beneath his, however, she turned to him and shook her head. “I really shouldn’t disappear from the ball like this, particularly not with you, not with—”

“Why not with me, in particular?” he asked coolly.

The elevator stopped and the doors opened into the penthouse’s black marble foyer. Instead of getting out, Cole braced his hand against the door to prevent it from closing. A little dizzy from the champagne and the elevator’s swift ascent, Diana felt an inappropriate urge to giggle, not cower, at his forbidding expression. “You’ve been so busy helping me save my reputation that I’m not sure you’ve realized the jeopardy you’ve put

your own in. What I meant before was that I shouldn’t have disappeared with you without first telling my family why you really bought this necklace. Furthermore, if any of those pictures of us make the news, and people know you’re about to be married, you’re going to look like a man without integrity.”

Cole felt a sudden urge to laugh. “You are worried about my reputation?”

“Of course I am,” Diana said primly, stepping out of the elevator and into the private vestibule of his suite.

“Now, that,” Cole said with a grin, “is a first. In fact,” he added, as they entered the suite’s living room and he switched on the tiny lights concealed in the cove of the ceiling, “I have a feeling tonight is going to be a night of several firsts.”

He glanced over his shoulder at Diana, who had stopped near the coffee table in the middle of the living room. She was watching him, her head tipped to one side, her expression more puzzled than wary. Puzzled was good, Cole decided. Wary was bad. He walked over to the bar and removed a bottle of champagne from the refrigerator. Alcohol in the bloodstream of a woman who was already delightfully rosy from gratitude and relief would help keep her wariness under control.

“?‘Firsts’?” she repeated. “What is there that you haven’t done until tonight?”

“For starters,” he said lightly, “I’ve never stood outside on the balcony of this suite with a woman.” He popped the cork on the champagne and plunged the bottle into the ice bucket on the bar. “Shall we make that another first?”

Diana watched him unbutton his tuxedo jacket and loosen his bow tie; then he tucked the ice bucket into the crook of his elbow and, with a champagne flute in each hand, paused to flip a wall switch with his elbow, which made the heavy draperies in front of the balcony doors glide apart. Superimposed over that image was a memory of him in faded jeans and shirt, currying a horse with one hand and reaching for a bridle with the other while he carried on a conversation with her about her schoolwork. Even then, he’d always seemed to be doing several things at once. He stepped aside, waiting for her to precede him onto the balcony, then handed her the drink he’d poured.

Tags: Judith McNaught Foster Saga Romance
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